THE    LAUGH    OF    CHRIST    AND    OTHER 
ORIGINAL    LINNETS      '       "       '       <       '       < 


THE  LAUGH  OF  CHRIST 

AND  OTHER  ORIGINAL 

LINNETS 


BY 
ST- CLAIRE  JONES 


Indianapolis 

THE     STUDIO     PRESS 

M  C  M  X  V  I  [ 


Copyright  1917  by  St.  Glair  Jones 


BOOK  PLATE 

HT'HE  lines  of  ST.  CLAIRE  JONES  are  written  here 

JL  Upon  Life's  Page  outlined  in  ebony 
By  one  who  feels  Love's  Kiss  upon  his  ear 
Where  Hate  6?  Death  are  passing  with  a  leer 

Mid  masked  Lascivians  and  Hetaerae 
Hailing  "THE  CHRIST"  as  "KiNG  OF  TRAGEDY." 

O  Prudery!  This  Poet  slays  all  fear 

Writing  that  naked  Truth  might  reappear: — 
His  Book  Plate  printed  by  E.  E.  GRABHORN, 

In  form  no  knowing  critic  laughs  to  scorn, 
Seeing  "THE  LAUGH  OF  CHRIST"  in  joy  designed, 
The  Virgin  produd:  of  a  Master  mind 

In  Beauty's  black  ink  carefully  outlined: — 

SIGNED:  1917. 


Lines  to  MARGUERITE  CASANGES 

Linnets  are  Verses,  vital,  clear  and  clean 
With  sighs  and  kisses  flying  fast  between 
Pauses  and  rests  timing  the  lines  thirteen. 


THE  MOON-MAID  MOTHER 

A  Picture 

T7ULL  in  the  Twilight  ere  Astarte  came 
JL    Diana  brought  her  cradle  to  the  sky, 
Within  man's  sight  a  Mother  without  shame 
Bearing  Apollo's  Infant,  blind  to  blame 

Nude  like  the  gilded  blond  Boy  standing  by 

The  pretty  Page  watching  his  evil  eye 
Follow  Salome  with  its  bloody  flame 
As  Herod  halts  behind  his  fleshy  Dame 

To  watch  tne  jeweled  Peacock'Butterfly 
Flutter  from  black  cocoon  in  green  moonlight 
Flying  in  nakedness  across  the  Night 
Towards  Luna  hanging  heavy  o'er  the  height, 

A  vision  of  desire  and  cold  delight. 


Lines  to  VON  STUCK 

Repellant  Night  grows  dark  to  hide  the  look 
Salome  casts  at  Jesus  and  his  book; 

Where  Jew  stands  watching  Herod,  the  pervert, 
Beyond  the  Grecian,  nut-eyed  and  alert 

As  "Sin"  peering  from  canvas  of  Von  Stuck. 


THE  MASTER  OF  MIRTH 

A  Picture 

T  OVER  of  laughing  boys  and  singing  girls 
-*— '  This  Jew  in  linen,  golden  girdled  rare, 
His  white  face  framed  in  long  black  folds  of  hair 

Hanging  in  glossy  columns  with  soft  swirls 
Sweeping  his  ivory  temples  in  wet  curls 

Darker  than  parted-beard,  in  fashion's  flare 

Away  from  lips  like  rose'leaves  red  6?  bare, 
Drawn  loose  around  his  mouth,  6?  mated  pearls 
Beneath  blue  changing  eyes;  lazuli,  beryls 

Or  opals  burning  in  their  fiery-flare 
Glistened  in  laughter  with  a  tear  of  glee 
Lighting  the  Way  for  painted  Hetaerae, 

MASTER  OF  MIRTH  costumed  for  Comedy. 


Lines  to  WILLIAM  CHASE 

In  New  York  I  have  studied  like  a  Jew 
Determined  to  find  Truth: — this  much  is  true 

You  showed  me  how  to  paint  with  pigments  fresh 
Still-life  and  portrait: — how  to  rake  the  flesh 
With  handle  of  my  paint-brush  to  renew 
The  life  of  paint  smeared  yellow,  red  and  blue. 


THE  LAUGH  OF  CHRIST 

An  Impression 

THE  LAUGH  OF  CHRIST  is  like  a  spreading  net 
Let  in  a  salty  sea  of  sadness  filled 
By  streams  from  melting  mountains  flowing  yet 
Into  Earth's  troubled  Pool,  Genesaret 

Where  blood  &*  tears  &P  milk  together  spilled 
Rankle  on  babies,  boys  and  girls,  new  killed 
By  soldiers,  in  loose  seed  and  semen  wet 
Filling  the  Seine  of  Christ  with  freshened  fret 
Of  sailors,  adtors,  painters,  poets,  skilled, — 
Killed  6P all  washed  away  as  Leaders  willed! 
Yet  has  the  LAUGH  OF  JESUS  not  been  stilled 
Trilled  from  his  mouth,  a  Spring  of  Living  Water 
In  this  "UNPRECEDENTED  SPRING  OF  SLAUGHTER!" 

Spring  TQT?. 


Lines  to  ROBERT  HENRI 

This  Laugher  leaps  to  life  when  bristle  brush 
Flushes  full  mouth  with  breath  of  beauty  lush 
Painted  by  Robert  Henri: — Master,  paint 
Before  the  Model  on  the  Throne  can  faint 
From  sight  of  men  again;  or  let  me  gush 
My  poetry  to  paint  a  fadeless  flush. 


THE  BATH 

A  Fountain 

MORE  joyous  than  the  bath  in  marble  room, 
Complete  immersion  in  the  running  stream 
Where  shying  snakes  and  toying  turtles  teem; 

Or  steady  passage  thru  the  swollen  flume, 
Far  from  the  temple  door  and  incense  fume. 
Come,  little  children,  laugh  and  loudly  scream, 
Dance  in  the  water  with  your  flesh  agleam. 

Desert  your  labors  on  the  royal  tomb, 

And  carol  back  the  psalm  that  I  resume. 
See  how  the  swimming  frogs  and  fishes  gleam 
In  the  round  public  pool  where  as  in  dream 
Our  heads  are  sprinkled  with  the  locust  bloom 

And  we  are  swathed  in  tulip  tree  perfume. 


Lines  to  MYRA  RICHARDS 

Three  Symbols  waken  in  your  Fletcher  Fountain 
Meaning  in  Art  more  than  Sea,  Sky  or  Mountain, 
Life,  Truth  and  Love  from  Maeterlinckian  Lake 
Dancing  together  where  their  movements  make 
Green  Plasterene  a  shore  of  cement  sand 
And  verdegris  bronze  move  while  figures  stand 
With  rhythmic  lines — neither  could  dance  alone 
Nor  sing  so  joyously  from  silent  stone. 


THE  WHITE  CHRIST 

Marble  Carving 

Prophet'Poet  is  no  longer  veiled; 

Naked  in  crystal  sight,  manly  detailed, 
I  carve  him  here  amid  his  long 'haired  sheep, 
Substantial  stone;  his  herded  flock  asleep. 
(  The  watching  Woman  is  not  nude  assailed 

Nor  has  the  lie  of  ancient  time  prevailed 
Upon  a  man  of  truth,  that  he  should  keep 
Back  weighted  words  that  gambol  free,  and  leap 

Among  the  ignorant.)   The  Nazarene 

Bathes  in  white  marbled  waters  cool  and  clean. 
My  chisel  chips  a  stone  the  Hebrews  missed. 
The  Maker  gave  clear  eyes,  the  Greeks  insist, 
To  gaze  on  perfect  bodies  thus  sun 'kissed. 


Lines  to  ALEXIS  MANEY 

Green  fire^flies  glisten  in  the  golden  grass, 
While  mated  Lovers  through  the  garden  pass 

Alexis,  where  he  stands  alone  and  holds 
His  slender  fingers  round  a  silver  glass. 


THE  WATCHING  WOMAN 

Iron  Fountain 

A  watching  Woman  stands  with  running  sore 
Painted  in  crimson  stream  upon  the  shore^ 
Where  Christ  in  iron  fishing'boat  appears 
Holding  his  hands  like  shells  behind  his  ears, 
To  catch  the  cry  Jehovah  heard  before 
This  Statue  stood  gushing  its  metal  gore. 
The  Woman  stands  painted  with  crimson  smears 
Streaked  over  foolish  face  with  drying  tears, 
As  The  White  Christ  drifts  by  without  an  oar 
Beyond  her  where  the  gushing  waters  pour 
In  lake  around  him,  while  his  fancy  steers 
Him  past  the  crimson  Nude,  healed  while  she  peers 
From  haunted  eyes  pressed  into  molten  ore. 


Lines  to  WAYMAN  ADAMS 

Adams  paints  us  today  that  we  might  live 
Tomorrow,  when  our  flesh  has  passed  from  bones. 
And  bodies  fly  through  star'dust  in  far  sones. 

Brushing  us  with  a  bristle  brush  to  give 
Immortal  life  to  Brown  and  Smith  and  Jones. 


HERO  SALOME 

An  Aesthetic  Dance 

IN  Herod's  eyes,  as  in  a  crystal  glass, 
Flashes  the  daughter  of  Herodias, 
A  virgin  in  her  night  embroideries. 
A  milk' white  peacock  thru  black  myrtle  trees, 
A  priestess  kneeling  on  the  garden  grass, 
Watching  the  prophet  and  his  students  pass. 

Religious  dancer  with  oiled  barencies, 
Ashteroth's  priestess  in  transparencies. 
The  Star  of  Love  above  Tiberias 
In  the  glased  eyes  of  Herod  Antipas. 
Salome  is  the  blended  light  of  these, 
Casting  her  various  veils  voluminous 
Behind,  above,  below  her,  luminous. 


Lines  to  JOHANN  BERTHELSON 

Herod  out-Herod's  Herod  when  you  play 
And  show  in  Little  Theater  your  gay 
Red  face  above  red  costume  of  red  King 
Painted  for  love  of  paint;  and  when  you  sing 
The  thunder  rolls  to  heaven  from  your  voice, 
While  mortals  see  the  lightening  and  rejoice, 
To  hear  King  Herod  in  his  anger  when 
The  tone  is  volumed  out  by  Berthelsen. 


THE  PEACOCK  SKIRT 

.  Costume  Design 

T}  REATHE  not  of  silken  slip  nor  fluted  cape ! 
-U  Above  a  Peacock-skirt  of  broidered  crepe 
Salome  draws  a  shawl  in  crescent  curve, 
Full  line  of  beauty  with  the  Grecian  swerve 
Across  her  breasts  where  Roman  robe  agape 
Reveals  beneath  its  ribbon  of  tight  tape ; 
(  In  axis-band  about  her  like  a  nerve 

Holding  a  flood  of  garments  in  reserve.) 
A  painted  Persian  veil  draped  on  the  skirt, 
And  webs  of  lace  that  deviously  divert 
Sight  from  the  silver  cestus  in  a  sheath 
Of  .parrot'plumes,  in  fainted  fold  beneath 
Her  golden  breasts  that  like  canaries  breathe. 


Lines  to  OSCAR  WILDE 

Wilde,  Weaver  of  a  loose  and  lurid  loom, 
Waits  me  in  Art's  tapestried  Treasure  Room 
When  I  advance  with  orchidaceous  bloom. 


THE  VEILS  WITHDRAWN 

A  Religious  Dance 

rTlHE  dancer  lifts  a  veil  of  dull-night  hue 
-*•  Revealing  Psyche  in  transparent  blue, 
Weeping  for  Cupid  hidden  stiff  and  dead, 
Her  face  behind  a  net  of  silver  thread 
With  flakes  of  pearl  and  amethyst  streaked  thru 
Like  powdered  tears  or  melting  morning  dew, 
Falling  with  wilted  poppies  from  her  head, 
Ash'gold  beneath  the  parting  veil  of  red. 
Nude  ruler  of  the  Roman  and  the  Jew, 
She  is  a  leaping  infant  born  anew, 
A  sunlit  flying  fish,  a  fanning  moth, 
A  sleeping  serpent,  an  awakened  sloth, 
Her  seven  veils  withdrawn  for  Ashteroth. 


Lines  to  AUBREY  BEARDSLEY 

The  slender  Beardsley  stands  against  black  curtain 
Outlined  in  white — Sure  Draftsman,  with  a  certain 
Air  of  refinement  drawn  out  of  reserve 
By  Vision  of  French  Model  full  of  verve. 


THE  TOILETTE 

Interior  Decoration 

O  WOMAN,  I  behold  more  than  your  face; 
Off  with  the  rose,  let  lily  rise  instead. 

Let  sun' white  purity  pink  puff  replace, 
Removing  tulip  flush,  unnatural  red. 
The  pearl  of  price  and  beauty  poets  chase 

The  loss  of  one  immortal  line  they  dread. 

Fold  veil  and  silken  gown  into  a  case 

Beneath  the  cream  of  warm  ceraceous  lace. 

Take  the  puffed  dress  from  hot  &P  wearied  head 

Bowed  low  by  colored  tresses  from  the  dead. 
All  shutters  opened  on  the  darkened  place 
I  see  you  in  a  natural  naked  grace, 
Against  the  ivory  panel  of  your  bed. 


Lines  to  TASSULA 

Through  hyacinths  and  bleeding  hearts 
My  Grecian  Wife  at  dawning  darts 
From  Athens  to  the  fruited  plains, 
On  thru  the  vineyards  and  the  grains, 
Unto  Janina  where  I  see 
Tassula  turn  and  run  to  me. 


THE  KISS 

An   Interrogation 

XT  THAT  is  that  strange  affinity  which  Art 
W  Magnetically  employs  to  draw  the  soul 
Prom  men  and  women  striving  for  Life's  Goal? 
Their  kiss  unites  the  severed  Head  and  Heart 

Cut  by  the  Priest  of  Ology  apart. 
Quaff  of  the  overflowing  marriage  bowl, 
While  mated  male  and  female  voice  the  whole 

Of  Love's  integral  Law  ere  they  depart. 
The  Soul  and  Body  of  all  Truth  is  this: 
No  man  so  dead,  but  wakens  at  a  kiss. 

Ovum  Ideal  in  metamorphosis 
Each  woman  waits  above  a  black  abyss 

Pupa  Pythoness  in  ecdysis. 


Lines  to  RODIN 

Rodin,  Detailist  of  Females  and  Males 
From  Youth  to  Age — Destroyer  of  details, 
Holding  the  Bodies  of  Women  and  Men 
In  marble  and  in  bronze  alive  again 


LE  ROI  DES  SATURNALIAS 

A  Reprint 

NO  garment  hides  the  Jew  Promethian 
Nailed  naked  to  a  knotted  Roman  Cross, 
His  perfect  body  staged  Cyclopean 
Above  a  Grecian  chorus  where  men  toss 
In  Saturnalia  lewd  jests  across. 
Silenus  rampant  and  Lascivian 
Hailing  a  King  in  song  Bacchantian. 
An  officer  enfolds  the  heaving  groins, 
And  on  his  knees  a  soldier  tosses  coins, 
To  spear  the  heart  or  break  the  leaping  loins. 
An  eunuch  lifts  a  sponge  perfumed  and  spiced, 
While  Hetaerae  behold  joy  sacrificed, 
Kneeling  to  kiss  the  stiff  feet  of  the  Christ. 


Latin  Lines  to  HORTENSE  FLEXNER 

Indulge  lacrymis;  tibi,  Hortense,  iusta  dolendi 
Causa:  tuae  primum  gentis  decus  occidit,  ingens 
Pace,  ingens  bello,  frater  tuus,  ardua  cuius 
Gloria  Caesaribus  par  reque  et  nomine  magnis. 


ASCENSION 

An  Icon 

WHEN  lilies  rise  from  earth 6# lilacs  bloom 
Beside  the  window  of  my  studio; 
When  locust'clusters  break  and  petals  blow 
Round  bleeding'hearts,  I  see  the  nude  bridegroom 

Rise  from  the  icon  centered  in  my  room 
And  kiss  the  bride,  rising  from  golden-glow 
O'er  violets,  purple  and  white,  which  grow 

Together  wet  from  Nature's  opened  Womb. 
When  roses  lift  themselves  with  pure  perfume 

Above  the  open  door  of  this  Glass-House 

I  understand  both  husbandman  and  spouse, 
Leaving  the  Earth  which  is  a  blossomed  Tomb 
Where  Science  stands  while  howit2£rs  boom ! 

Easttr  Sunday,  1917 


Lines  to  You 

A  little  Greek  explains  my  lines  to  you 
Who  think  my  linnets  Latin  or  Hebrew. 
American,  my  language,  will  distinguish 
Me  from  the  Irish,  Indians  and  English. 


ONE  HUNDRED  COPIES 

IMPRINTED  BY  THE  STUDIO  PRESS  THIS 

SIXTEENTH  DAY  OF  APRIL 

MCMXVII 


PILE  S  S 


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